


Sam's No Good Very Bad Day

by ad0rably_0rdinary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5209739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ad0rably_0rdinary/pseuds/ad0rably_0rdinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam endures a bad hunt, and retires to his motel room ready to pass out and face the nightmares that will accompany his sleep. Gabriel pops by with gifts and comfort, and yeah. Sabriel with just a smidgen of Destiel if you squint hard enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam's No Good Very Bad Day

The familiar sense of exhaustion settled deep into Sam’s body as he trudged through the rickety motel room door. It feels like his very bones are tired, barely capable to keep his body upright and moving, but he perseveres, dropping his bag on the stained floor with a thud and stretching his long arms over his head. The overworked muscles in his shoulders protest at the extension, and he drops his arms back to his side with a quiet groan. 

The nest of vampires that should have been an easy hunt surprised the Winchesters with their numbers, capturing Dean at knifepoint and threatening Sam into compliance. The two brothers were forced to watch as the leader killed a young teenage boy whose mother Sam had promised to bring home safe. 

When Sam closed his eyes he could still hear the pained screams, see the splash of fresh blood on the dirt and then the crushing silence that was far louder than any scream could ever be. The hunt after that had been blurry. After they had escaped their bounds, Sam had been filled with a burning rage, anger at the monsters that slaughtered the boy and anger at himself for not being fast enough, for not saving the innocent soul and keeping his promise.

All in a days work, he thought to himself bitterly as he fumbled to unbutton his flannel shirt.

He’s got blood crusted onto his face making the skin feel stiff and underneath his fingernails, and he thanks his lucky stars that he and Dean decided to get separate rooms on this hunt because there’s no wait to take a shower and there will be no pressure to talk about their joined failure. 

The motel is mediocre at best and the bathroom looks like it's been through hell, but Sam doesn’t flinch in disgust at the hair around the drain or even the mold decorating the tile walls. He merely flips the shower handle on, starting it up so the water will be warm when he does step in, and slowly strips himself of the ruined clothes. 

When he enters the shower, he shies back a bit because the water is searing against his cold skin, but slowly eases into the spray, huffing a soft sigh at the comfort it brings to his bruised body. The water runs red for a while, rinsing him clean of the dried blood and sweat, and he watches dully as it disappears down the drain. If only he could rid himself of the memories of tonight as easily as he could grime on his body. He indulges, staying in the warmth much longer than he needs to after the perfunctory washing of his body and hair. 

Only when the water begins to run cold and his fingers prune, does Sam shut it off, hair dripping in his eyes as he reaches blindly for a towel. He notices as soon as his fingers brush the fabric that this is not the standard motel towel. It’s too soft, something isn’t right about it's presence in the type of motel he's at, but Sam snags it anyways, wiping at his face and wrapping it securely around his waist. 

He peeks out quietly around the plastic curtain, though he sees only an empty bathroom. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he carefully steps out of the shower reaching for the complimentary hair dryer that sits innocently on the sink, ready to use it as a make-shift weapon because his gun is in his bag on the bed. He wishes for a moment that he had brought a change of clothes inside the bathroom so he wouldn't have to fight nearly naked, but there's nothing he can do about that so he banishes the thought and focuses on the task at hand.

The door is shoved open with a quick flick of his arm, the handle cracking against the wall behind it and denting the cheap plaster, and Sam leaps out, hair dryer held tightly in his hand, ready to face on a nest of vampires or a couple demons and sees….Gabriel. 

“Well hello to you too, Sammy boy.” The archangel murmurs drily, his eyes glinting in amusement at the hair dryer. Sam flushes, and sets the hair dryer down on the table beside him, discreetly trying to ensure that his towel stays tight around his waist. The last thing he needs is Gabriel seeing him fully nude.

“What the hell are you doing here Gabriel.” He spits out, turning to appraise the angel with a suspicious glare. The archangel pouts, sticking out his lower lip and looking wounded.

“I can’t just come say hi to my favorite Samsquatch?” He whines, somehow managing to talk and keep his lower lip stuck out. “I even brought presents,” Sam looks around the room, noticing for the first time the lavish looking king sized bed and stainless steel refrigerator, both looking hugely out of place in the grungy room.

Sam stared longingly at the bed, his body suddenly getting hit with what felt like a wall of tiredness that had been all but forgotten in the excitement.

“What’s the catch?” he asked, his voice hopeful. He could use a good nights sleep on a bed like that, especially after the day he’d had. 

“No catch. Just wanted to give a little something to the two men who give everything they’ve got to an ungrateful world,” Maybe it was the exhaustion toying with him, but Sam could swear that Gabriel looked a little sad as he spoke. 

“Well…thanks Gabe.” Sam relented, offering the archangel a tired smile and then collapsing onto the softest bed he’d ever occupied. There was a sharp snapping sound, and Sam found himself clothed in soft, warm pajamas. Another snap and he was suddenly underneath the covers, head resting comfortably on a pillow. 

“No problem Sam,” Gabriel murmured, lifting his hand to snap himself God only knew where. Sam sat up quickly, his head reeling a bit from the sudden change of position, and looked sheepishly at the archangel through his lashes.

“I don’t really…I mean I shouldn’t…The thing is...” Sam fumbles with his words for a few more seconds before Gabriel held up a hand to silence the man. 

“You want me to stay until you fall asleep?” he asks, and Sam notices that the angels voice lacks the sarcastic tone. The youngest Winchester merely nods, still waiting for the catch, before Gabriel snaps and is in comfy looking sweats and a big t-shirt. 

“Scoot over, you damn sasquatch.” The archangel grouses, as he leaps onto the bed and snuggles under the blankets next to Sam. The vessel Gabriel inhabits isn’t very big, but the amount of heat that it radiates off of it is intoxicating, and Sam finds himself wrapped around the angel immediately, nose pressed against the warm skin of Gabriel’s neck. 

“Knew you were a cuddler,” Gabriel sighs, but he doesn’t sound annoyed or angry. Sam knows this is probably the strangest situation he’s been in, but he can’t seem to find the energy to care that he is in bed wrapped around an archangel that had tried to kill both him and his brother. Multiple times.

He’s (relatively) safe and warm, and after the day he’s had, he decides he deserves a little comforting. He hums a soft sigh and allows himself to finally drift off. Gabriel snaps his fingers, and his grace chases away the nightmares that threaten Sam’s mind. 

The archangel grins at the quiet snores that rumble from Sam’s chest, and stares at the other man with soft eyes, taking in the peaceful, lax face. After a while he closes his own eyes and for the first time in a couple centuries, falls asleep. 

On the other side of the wall, Dean Winchester laid in a bed of equal size and softness, with his own angel Castiel watching over him fondly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Drop me a comment!  
> Tell me how much you loved it(Or hated it. I can handle criticism)


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